


Subjugation

by HallowedJack



Series: Paladins Slash [1]
Category: Paladins: Champions Of The Realm (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Faustian Bargain, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-20 16:42:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21059858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HallowedJack/pseuds/HallowedJack
Summary: The battle atop the plateau was coming to a head, and the Magistrate would not emerge victorious. Having recently gained a trump card, the Paladins are growing stronger than ever. The Magistrate needed their own ace in the hole, and Red found out the hard way that dealing with devils doesn't quite follow how it's portrayed in fairy tales.“Alright, tell me about this person, then. What does it take to summon them?”“I don’t need to tell you much about him, he’ll do that all by himself. Quite an ego there, for sure. Just because he can transcend planes without a vessel, really only a party trick. He isn’t as much of a weaver as I, more of a force of nature if I must commend him even slightly. You need to entice him somehow, how you do that is up to you. But there is one thing though, you have to believe it will work. What do you think an abyssal lord of violence and destruction would appreciate?”





	Subjugation

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in the Paladins fandom, and I'd like to say thank you to Tridraconeus for making me want to write for this ship. I'm hoping to develop some of Paladins' criminally underdeveloped lore, let's see where this story takes us. Feel free to talk to me on twitter at @pumpkinssplat

They were surrounded, utterly defeated. To give them credit, the resistance had surrounded the plateau from all angles of entry. Holding up, in hindsight, was not the solution. Gritting his teeth, he peered out through the keep’s windows down towards the battlefield. The fight raged on. Smoke and fire wafted out into the sunset-air. Screeching men and metal grated at his ears. This was bad. More so than usual. Besides the harsh mountaintops, this stronghold was the last line of defence before Crosswind Hold. This keep could not be lost, the tides of battle were turning, and not in their favour. If taken by the resistance, the quarry’s resources would fall under resistance control. Vivian would not let him hear the end of it, they both knew the value of the crystals mined from within. It was also their only defensible access point to the mountainous region.

A loud crash shook the keep’s walls. Gazing at the stone before him, it was old, weathered, cracked. Near rubble. This keep would not hold.

Red coughed, stabbing pain sent throughout his abdomen. That damned wolf girl. The wound wouldn’t heal. Peering through the bandages, the faint blue glow still resided. It was some kind of toxic, for sure. That bitch was new, some kind of ace in the hole. He had never seen the woman fighting for the resistance ever. But there was a way to know his enemies. Retrieving the Link Crystal from his coat-pocket, Red searched out for the familiar resonance. It rang for a few moments before the line was picked up.

“What’s this about, Red, you know I’m already out on one of your missions.”

Red grit his teeth. Insubordination. It could not be tolerated, but he could not afford to lose her as an asset.

“Listen Skye, now’s not the time. We’re in a really bad spot up near stone keep. They’ve got some new girl fighting for them. Blue bow, arrows that apply some kind of energy. I don’t like it. Some kind of ace up their sleeve. Kill her or get me information.”

The woman laughed demurely.

“You’re cute when you’re angry. Very well, I’ll get you what you want.”

Hesitant, he hung up the link. She was an asset, believe it or not. But she trusted her to get the job done. He’d have results. Red was glad to have her on his side.

The lamp hanging above him flickered with a gust of cool air. The draft in his war room was pitiable. In shambles, really.

The loud echoes of war rocked the castle as he attempted to sleep. What little amounts of bed-rest earned was cherished, however. He’d need the energy for whatever tomorrow brought. Nowadays, it always brought something or another.

-

Red woke with a start. It was a nightmare, he knew, but not of what. There was a chorus of pained screaming, a symphony of endless torture. He rubbed his eyes. Not the time to be scared of a nightmare. The battle had yet to relent, that was from what his true fear derived. Yawning to himself, he stretched and tugged at the waistband of his trousers. Sleepwear was troublesome, but he needed to be ready for combat at a moment’s notice. An annoying necessity, but a necessity all the same. His muscles ached and sagged with lethargy as his feet barely took him to the watchtower’s door. Two piles stood in front of his door. One, the more preferable, was a bronze tray rife with rations. Fresh bread- a true luxury- served with preserves and what smelled like fresh apple juice. He raised his brow at the appearance of two sausage links. One was a pleasant surprise. Maybe they were trying to boost his clearly diminishing morale.

The bread was approaching stale but still enjoyable, and the preserves were tropical of some sort. The flavor reminded him of the berries grown near frog isle. That thought brought him back to easier times. Times when the resistance was just a small seedling of what was now a sequoia much like the mangroves of Brightmarsh. The sausages were palatable, nothing commendable though, aside from how they managed to procure it in such a vicarious position. He had to wonder how old they were, perhaps found in some mummified state in the depths of the hold? Not even he knew how long the spiders crawled through the dungeons. At least, he thought, it wouldn’t kill him any faster than the arrow wounds in his torso. His shoulder ached with pain as he raised the fork to his mouth. The acidic juice burned at his chapped lips, but only slightly relieved his dehydrated state. This wouldn’t do, he’d need water at once. One thing at a time is how he got through his days.

Leaving his room for water, he looked back at the letters on the floor. Better keep them in his room under lock and key, mostly for his own anxiety’s sake. Couldn’t be too careful.

Upon returning with a sheepskin of water and thoroughly quenched, Red stared at the pile of letters on his desk. The first one to open, he thought, was the small non-descript parchment sealed in a dark purple. He knew that color code. Damn, that girl was fast.

With the knife in his pocket, he slipped the blade between the seal and freed the parchment. Crystaline energy dispersed into the air. It had been locked with magic. Good for her, smart, too. If he knew her, the magic would have killed him if not for his signature it recognized.

Dear Mr. Bigshot,

This was easy enough as to make me question your work ethic. Are you really lazy enough to ignore what we witnessed during the siege of the Bazaar? This is, I fear, much like incident with the stellar man. She is similar to Jenos, in her apparent deified identity. I don’t think I’ll be able to kill her with poison bolts alone. I’ll leave that work for you. But I got close to her, she seems to have some kind of pet. I was thinking, red, could we get a dog? Maybe some kind of goat? That would make sense, since you’re up in a mountain and all. I’m running out of ink. See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya.

Red grit his teeth at the disrespect, this was no time for banter. Sure, he did not mind so during times of peace, but his nerves could not handle it. With the war at his literal doorfront, his patience was almost as thin as his hair. Maybe it would turn grey with all of his stress. He couldn’t be a silver fox at twenty five, not his kind of look. Reassuring himself, he ran his hand through his thankfully thick brown locks. Still there. Nothing to worry about. But he knew this anxiety to be laughable in the face of war. Not the time.

But the letter concerned him. Another Jenos. Fun. Terminus could only do so much in the face of a god, even with his apparent immortality. Another god could spell trouble. The kind of trouble that would turn the tides for good. A dark spark lit the figurative lamp above his head. It burned black with epiphany. The town of Seris was his answer, even if he did not appreciate the memories. Wading through the years of alcohol to uncover those memories would be a feat in and of itself. For now, he’d open another letter. This one, from Lian.

The resistance had taken ground. Too close for comfort.

He stopped opening letters. He had work to do.

-

Somewhat inebriated, Red found himself in the keep’s library. Sure, it wasn’t the most expansive of archives, but it was surprisingly adequate. This hold was ancient, he could tell, from the stench of the library alongside the general crumbling nature of the castle. The subject matter of the books were also a key indicator of age. They had no mention of crystals, literature from what he deemed the dark ages. As a scholar, it was certainly a fascinating discovery, a trove of knowledge untainted by the politics and power of crystals.

They needed their own deity, but Skye hadn’t the resources to discover how exactly they had gained another god on their side. From what he could tell, the first, Jenos, arrived of his own volition and had been swindled by one of the resistance’s soldiers. Thumbing through the index of subjects, he came to a section that made him pause. Curious, he glanced at the blacked out label. Rendered illegible, his curiosity had been piqued. Taking the bound leather in his hand, it was remarkable dry. The title was gilded and written in a plain font. “Ancient Myths and Legends of the Realm”. Definitely the right kind of book.

Another thundering blow rattled the castle. He’d have to skim the pages quickly. Red grew desperate.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Red continued reading.

Flipping through pages, the subject matter was mostly fruitless. Ancient religions, symbols in literature, folk tales, nothing substantial towards a figure nor how to call upon them. He knew the kind of thing he was looking for wasn’t exactly approved by the magistrate, but it needed to be done. He was looking for anything, but if he had to specify, the void. There was nothing in the book, absolutely nothing that would aid him aside from tales of some green dragon goddess of lechery alongside other unhelpful myths. Sure, their existence itself was interesting, alongside their possible validity, but it was not helpful if there were no instructions regarding conjuration. Dust floated up from the pages as he flipped through them frantically. With a groan of frustration, the tossed the book against the stone walls and slammed his fists against the table. How the hell had the Paladins managed to get gods on their side? He needed the void, right the fuck now.

“Ask and you shall receive. You called me and so I came”

The voice was spectral, demure and seductive. But it wasn’t Skye’s voice. It disturbed him, as if speaking through the mandibles of a thousand skulls. Glancing around the room, there was nothing. Nada. Nobody was in the room with him. Maybe? Frantic from both panic at being discovered during his occult research, alongside general desperation, he darted out behind the bookshelves. But there was nobody.

“Oh? You’re looking for me? Forgive me, I can be a bit shy.”

If he was interested in women in the first place, it would have definitely caught his attention. She spoke with the intention to seduce, and so he was put on edge.

A pale violet light grew into existence above his desk. Grey smoke curled around it as it grew in form and floated in the air towards him. It bobbed as if hanged while the light dimmed and the shake took form of something spherical. Purple light emenated through patterned slits on the surface of the sphere. Some kind of lantern? Red took a step back as the lantern approached him. Indistinguishable whispering eerily enveloped his senses, chanting some kind of nonsense he couldn’t make out. As if unveiling herself from the air in front of him, the woman’s pale hand appeared grasped around the handle of the lantern as the rest of her followed suit. Holding the lantern out in front of her, she posed as if illuminating the way. Red swallowed. He didn’t like this idea any more.

Dark purple robes hung from her waist while her torso was covered and adorned by a leather vest that left nothing to the imagination. A hooded cowl sheathed her face and shoulders. A violet crystal was embedded into her collarbone. Red attempted eye contact but tightened his gaze. White silk covered her sight. Strange. The door was behind him. Red slowly stepped back, maybe she wouldn’t see him.

“Leaving so soon? But I can give you exactly what you want and more.”

The way she emphasized her words had a certain insinuation to them, a definite innuendo. But she could see him, eyes covered, and so he panicked.

“Listen, I don’t think you can, no offence, but I think this was some kind of mistake.”

The woman’s cold dead lips quirked up into a smile. They did not move as she spoke directly into his mind.

“I don’t make mistakes, mortal, and who said I had to be the one giving you anything?”

Red frowned. The woman seemed to be in a somewhat jovial mood, but he would not let the demeanour disarm him. Clearly, from his research a few moments ago, there was something occult about her, to have been called upon through his research. The book was dangerous, if merely the knowledge of something he read about was what caused the woman to appear. There was, however, another chilling alternative. She had been watching.

“Alright, so what do you want?”

The woman laughed in his mind.

“Mhmhmhm, you think this is about what I want? I know what you want, I’ve looked into your soul. And I can give it to you, too. Just say the word.”

Red shook his head.

“You’ve looked into my soul? Sorry, I’m not as easily duped as the next guy. Prove it. What do I want?”

This was bad. His words were on autopilot, he had no other way to explain why he was sassing some sort of occult figure. She didn’t seem perturbed though, and maybe that was a bad sign.

“You really are naughty aren’t you? You want me to say those words out loud? But I’ll spare you that embarrassment, for I know you are not clear nor intentful with your words.”

With an echoing chuckle, she held out her lantern towards him and let the smoke billow out into a thick screen. Red gazed into the smoke, catching sight of what he assumed to be the resistance in some kind of tactical planning routine. The blue bitch was standing next to Jenos, moving figurines around on the table. Valera stood behind them, watching with a smirk on her face. The pieces on the table were moving towards the small tower on the grid. Red wasn’t an idiot. He knew what it meant. The queen piece atop the castle was toppled over by their newest deified soldier.

“Why are you showing me this? To taunt you?”

Another chortle.

“I won’t be the one teasing you. You’re a smart man. I’m showing you that they’re making their move tomorrow when most of your troops will be exhausted. The battle you’re currently fighting is only a quarter of their readied troops. A distraction really, intended to exhaust your resources to a crippling level. Quite cunning, to be honest. I can see past this smoke and it doesn’t bode well for you, unless we recast it of course.”

His response was immediate. Defensive.

“Why should I believe you?”

Curt, but resolute.

“You know this yourself. Think about it. Where are the big-league fighters, like the one that caused that little thorn in your side?”

And she was right. They had been duped. Their own underestimation of this fight’s scale would be their downfall. There was no way to re-mobilize the troops near the ruby throne across the mountain in time for tomorrow. Doomed. At the reminder the wound in his side throbbed.

“Alright, let’s say I believe you, how can you help? I need you on the battlefield pronto.”

Her feet never touched the ground as she strode up to him, robe dragging along the ground like a spectre. Red flinched as his cheeks were pinched by the woman’s jewelled nails. The cold metal pricked his skin to a painful degree.

“Such eagerness, ready already? Oh trust me boy I know how much you need me, but I’m not much of a fighter. I do know, however, somebody who would be more up your alley. Literally and figuratively of course. Here, take this.”

Before Red could prepare himself for whatever he was taking, she held up her right hand and pointed it towards him. The violet jewel in her palm glowed a ghostly green as orbs of a similar colour spiralled towards him. The incense lantern in her left hand let out a puff of thick smoke. They were not orbs. Looking at them closer, he could see their humanoid faces, contorted in agony as if painted by an impressionist. He could hear them too as they passed through him, their groans of pain and agony. He didn’t like this. The hair on the back of his neck stood erect, but the pain faded from his wound and the glowing energy faded from being visible even through his bandages. The dark circles under his eyes faded and his body was both nourished and re-hydrated, he felt as if he had slept for years. This was not normal healing magic.

Red removed the bandages at his side and analyzed the wound. Nothing, besides a rapidly fading puffy scar. As if it there had never been any fight with that girl in the first place.

“Thank you. This is definitely useful for me, what more could you offer besides your service? What’s your name, anyway?”

The mysterious woman turned away, striding over to the book on the ground. It glowed green and levitated up into her hands. The pages flipped to an article on a void, a granular crack in the realm. He didn’t understand.

“There are many more things I can offer that will be of much more use, but don’t assume I’ll serve you without some sort of compensation, or even that I’ll follow your orders in the first place. Think of me as an ally- no, too friendly, just somebody with your best interest at heart.”

Red really wished the girl would just speak to him regularly, he didn’t like the idea of having her in his head like this. It felt invasive in a way that left him violated. He thought, perhaps, that this was the point. To leave him vulnerable to suggestion. He’d have to remain vigilant. He didn’t understand the article in the book she was referring too.

“For a commander of high standing such as yourself, I’d assume you’d be able to put two and two together. Sometimes, the insolence of mortals surpasses even how far I can see. I’m not giving you my true name. Meaning has power, and we’re not that intimate. But I do have a nickname, one you already know.”

For what the commander assumed to be dramatic flair, she cast the book behind her and motioned the lantern around her body as if veiling herself in a cloak. In that moment, she gradually vanished. Red panicked once more. He needed to know.

Red felt ghostly hands around his waist as she reappeared behind him, lantern materializing before his eyes. The smoke entered his eyes and he saw Seris.

Gasping for the breath that was knocked out of him, he grabbed onto the table as the tendons in his hands contracted. The wood chipped under the stress. Eyes wide, he desperately tried to close them from seeing through the smoke forced into his vision. The girl, the sister, the hair he cut with the knife still strapped to his belt. It was her. Seris. Red understood what it felt like to be royally screwed, but he had already went through this situation a hundred times in his head. The kind of guilt that prevented him from functioning, the dreadful weight in his stomach. Seris released him from her frigid grip and lowered the lantern from his eyes. Red dismissed the smoke by waving his hand in front of his face. Seris swayed away from him even before he began dry heaving. Vomit splashed against the cold cellar floor. Too much. No amount of alcohol could repress those memories, it seemed. It would always find a way to weasel itself back into his life, regardless of how many times he talked it over in his head.

Bracing himself against the bookshelf, Red took a deep breath.

“Now do you see why I came?”

With a shaky sigh, he answered.

“Y-yes. For revenge. Go ahead then, kill me. I’ll probably die in battle here soon anyway.”

The admission was freeing in a way. His guilt wouldn’t matter when he was dead.

This time, the voice was louder in his head. It was angry.

“Insolent fool! Why would I be angry over my birth? You brought me into this realm and so I wish to repay you. Collect yourself and listen closely, follow my instructions to understand.”

Pale with illness, Red nodded almost frantically. Do not presume anything with the haunting specter, he noted.

“Look into yourself, can you see the darkness?”

Her lips quirked up in a way, almost as if amused by her own joke or double-entendre.

Red knew what she was specifically referring to, what the lantern had shown him.

“Yes, you showed me my darkness, and reminded me of every other aspect of it.”

Seris nodded.

“Good, this darkness was what you used to bring me into this realm. You can do it again, but this time without a sacrifice-no, vessel for them to inhabit. Someone that should serve your purposes nicely. Power beyond reason, strength beyond means. How does that sound? You’ve done this before.”

Red chewed his lip. This wasn’t even something he should consider, not even in the slightest. The void was evil, forbidden, everybody knew that. Not even the Magistrate, for which he knew the lengths it would go for power, would consider consulting with such tainted methods. But she was right, he had done this before, he could do it again. From what she was implying, there would be no guilt-ridden sacrifice for him to mull over for the rest of his life. And that was another thing, his life. There was almost an upcoming finality to the battle for this keep, he knew he’d die if he let it run its course. Everything else was failing. A desperate man could reasonably take desperate measures, he rationalized. Such was forgivable. Plus, her healing would prove invaluable. The Paladins had a trump card, why couldn’t they? The decision was made in his mind.

Seris smiled before he even got the chance to answer. She knew.

“Alright, tell me about this person, then. What does it take to summon them?”

“I don’t need to tell you much about him, he’ll do that all by himself. Quite an ego there, for sure. Just because he can transcend planes without a vessel, really only a party trick. He isn’t as much of a weaver as I, more of a force of nature if I must commend him even slightly. You need to entice him somehow, how you do that is up to you. But there is one thing though, you have to believe it will work. What do you think an abyssal lord of violence and destruction would appreciate?”

This time, it was Red that grinned. The trump card had slithered its way into his hand, and he intended to use it in any way possible. Honourable combat was out the window. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“I have an idea or two.”

“Oh, what’s this? Is it the kind of thing that will make me blush?”

Rolling his eyes, Red shook his head. Not that kind of enticement, but he had the feeling Seris already knew that. Such a goddamn tease. It reminded him of Skye, in a way. The thought made him frown. She wouldn’t approve of this. Or would she? He never knew with that girl anyway.

  
  


“No, definitely not anything of that sort.”

Red left the vomit on the ground as he approached the locked cellar door. He’d bug somebody to clean it up. Not his problem at this point. He turned around to motion for Seris to follow but he startled. She was already right behind him. Her footsteps must have been muffled or something because he knew his ears were keen and he had heard nothing. Not even the rustling of the flowing robes dragging against the stone floor. The kind of something that definitely would have created more than the nothing he heard.

“Lead the way.”

But Red had the sinking feeling that he didn’t have to.

In the dead of night, there was little life in the castle. Thinking ahead, he took the route that would leave as little room for human interaction as possible. There was no explaining he could do about the eerie floating woman following close behind. Weaving through narrow corridor after narrow corridor, Red had to wonder how she hadn’t bumped into anything yet, and was managing to keep up at his side while blindfolded.

A yelp almost escaped his throat as he bumped into a shrewd woman. Looking at her outfit, he identified her as the fireplace attendant. With a panicked gander behind him, his anxiety flatlined. She was gone. But Red knew better, he could hear the whispers of the damned lacing the air. It was subtle, but he knew it wouldn’t be heard by anybody not looking for it. Goosebumps pricked at his skin.

Once he entered the spiral staircase and locked the wooden door behind him, Red could hear the incense lantern crackling to life behind him. He didn’t have to look to know she had reappeared. An interesting trick of hers, for sure. It wasn’t similar to Skye’s cloaking, at all, he could tell. This was something similar, but in a parallel fashion such that they would never intersect.

“Very wise, to access a point from which such violence and death is accessible.”

Red paused.

“But you told me no sacrifice is required. I don’t understand.”

She laughed in his head.

“Of course you don’t, but now let me ask you this. Is it a sacrifice if they are already dead? Oh, and to clarify, I meant sacrifice from another.”

He didn’t like what she was doing, it rubbed him the wrong way. Cryptic wordings were never his forte, nor was deciphering their meaning. But if he thought about it, it kind of made sense. These people were dead anyway, and it would be a needless waste if they found some random person to kill. Seris was right then, it seemed, there would be no needed sacrifice.

Both of them emerged into the war tower at the same time as Red’s response.

“No, I guess not. Sorry, I’m just not used to all of this.”

Seris frowned.

“Trust me mortal, I know.”

Gliding towards the window, she peered out through the iron grating to the waging battle. Iron clashed against iron as the sounds of war filtered in through the night sky.

She looked back at him.

“But there is one more thing. You can’t get something for free, you know?”

This was the part Red was waiting for. Ten years off his life, or something sinister like that. But he’d gladly say yes, ten years less living was still more than dying tomorrow.

“Alright, you want my soul?”

This time, she cackled loudly in his mind, too loud. It hurt.

“As if I haven’t already gotten my fair share, but that is not important. I want you to give up something you will not want to, so no happy fun life of servitude or any kind of fantasy like that. I want your livelihood. I want your ability to command, your ability to fight. With this, you will have access to more power than the sum of everything you have ever seen. How does that sound? I’m a very busy woman, and I haven’t got all day. Or maybe I do have all day, but I’m still quite busy.”

Red didn’t hesitate. He would lose it all anyway if he denied Seris. It was inevitable, like fate. There was no other course possible in his history.

“Gods, yes! Please, my troops need the relief. Let’s just get this over with.”

With a smile, the hooded woman nodded and approached the rotunda in the centre of the room. With that same ghostly green aura, she cast the telescope aside from its position at the centre of the observatory.

“Very well. I’ll need you to sign this on the dotted line. I’d tell you to read the fine prints and clauses, but there aren’t any. This is more of a formality than anything, a verification that will allow me to prove intent and open a portal.”

Red frowned, something seemed off. Warning alarms went off in his head. This was the moment were the protagonist of fairy tales make their grave mistake, they forget to read the terms that are clearly stated in retrospect.

An ethereal parchment appeared before him, floating just in front of his grasp. It held only a dotted line. An inked quill materialized in his grasp.

“Why don’t we have to agree to any terms and officially strike up some kind of magically binding deal?”

She cast a gaze towards him. Even while her eyes were covered, he could feel her penetrating stare.

“You think I even need terms and some contract to reap my end of the bargain? Again, boy, you underestimate me. It’s quite entertaining, your blindness. Even if you run to the peak of the pyre, I will get my end of the deal. Even if it takes until the heat death of our multiverse, I will exact my toll.”

He couldn’t do more but released a despair-fuelled laugh at this point. His hand was forced.

“Alrighty.”

His grip on the quill tightened as he signed his name on the dotted line. With that, it literally went up in smoke and was drawn back into Seris’s incense lantern. The room god noticeably hotter, damper, too. Shocks crackled at the fabric on his thighs as he ran his hand against it.

“And there is one more thing, we need a little extra on top of the dead bodies around us. He’s always been a little greedy. It won’t hurt at all, just a little pinch.”

This was not part of the deal, but she spoke as if they both knew this was coming. His body shook with uncertainty, but he had already signed his name. No going back now, the deal was done.

Seris glided towards him, a sole jewelled finger outstretched towards him. The sharp silver tip beckoned for his skin. His eyes widened and he almost backed away as the sharp tip got closer and closer to his face. Out of instinct, he tried to close his eyes but found himself paralyzed.

“You’ll do more damage than necessary if you resist. Why back out now when we’re more than halfway there? And he’s so very excited, would you dare deprive him?”

With a swift pinching pain, the tip of her finger dug into flesh and severed a microscopic vein. His own blood beaded on the tip of her finger. Still frozen, he could only watch with disjoint horror as she reached into a red-rimmed circle that appeared in thin air. The flaming circle spun angrily as a wet slopping sound echoed from within. Removing her finger from the black portal, Seris made a sound of annoyance, but this time out loud. The blood on her finger was gone, replaced with a clear dripping substance. Saliva, it reeked much like his own after days without brushing his teeth. To both him and whoever was inside, she complained while wiping it into her robes

“You never cease to disgust me, Raum. Show yourself, the deal is done.”

Raum was his name. Violently, the portal shifted down to the floor of the rotunda, almost beneath their feet.

What was once black was now illuminated by hellfire and dripping magma. Chains adorned the red bricks of the throne room beyond. A towering muscular figure stood beneath them as he grasped the arm of his throne. The skulls piled around him judged Red’s petrified gaze. Fire left Raum’s nostrils as he snorted, chains shifted and clanged around behind him as a gust of scathingly hot air burst from the portal. Seris reached out with her green glow to heal his boiling skin, but it didn’t stop the searing pain in the slightest. As the gust came to a close, the half-goat demon laughed with his impossibly deep voice. It echoed out and shook his bones. Raum licked his lips with his serpentine tongue.

“Another failure, another weak man.”

“Desperate for a solution, no matter the cost.”

Raum exhaled as he stood up, goat-like eyes freezing Red in place as they tore him apart.

“They turn to us. They always do.”

Another deep exhale, but closer to excited panting.

“And they always regret it!”

Raum roared, jumping up with cervine legs through the portal and onto Red’s chest. Screeching like a banshee, he ran from the portal but felt a hard presence slam into him before he could reach the door. Knocked to the floor, he struggled for breath as dark-clawed hands clasped his neck. Raum’s grip tightened as he flexed his power, subjugating by showing how little Raum would have to do to end Red’s life. His vision doubled from both oxygen-deprivation and the concussion from his head striking the brick flooring. Desperate once again, he pleaded, this time with as little of his voice that managed to snake it’s way past the iron grasp on his windpipe.

The portal closed behind him.

Red, with one hand, pushed and resisted Raum’s hold, but felt no give. It did nothing to push and punch at the hard red muscle. The weakened man struggled desperately against the demon lord.

“No man can control the abyss.”

Red, he could only see red. The angry red of Raum’s skin and the red blood pouring from his burnt nostrils.

The goat-like eyes stared deep into his own, barely inches away as Raum shoved his face towards Red’s own.

“No man can control Raum!”

“N-No! Seris, p-please! Help me!” He reached out a hand towards her, only to have it pinned down with claws that drew blood.

The woman only smiled as she brought the lantern around her form and slowly disappeared before his eyes.

  
  



End file.
